Anytime, Mr Moral Fiber
by ivyflightislistening
Summary: Oneshot based on the aftermath of the final battle, and Harry and Ginny's reunion with some RonXHermione. Some fluff & angst, I'd like feedback! "If I've said it once, Harry James Potter. You're an idiot. You're always welcome." Minor language.


The battle with Voldemort was officially over.

Or, as wizards were already calling it, the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry couldn't help but criticize the new name; after all, there already had been a battle at Hogwarts.

And like all endings, like the ending to a great party, people were leaving, some in tears as quickly as they could, and others with a strange tug at their hearts, as if begging them to stay. The Death Eaters, the few that hadn't been killed on their final fleeing of the school, had apparated away as soon as they were beyond the gates, but the memories wouldn't be banished quite as quickly. The castle, always such a comforting place for Harry, was now crumbling in parts with a whole section burned to ashes, thanks to Crabbe. He was unable to look at it. Unable to look at the bodies that had gave their lives for him, unable to see the destruction and face it as reality.

Silently, he had crept away under his invisibility cloak to sit beneath an old tree at the edge of the Lake. He had watched as various wizards greeted one another, sobbed without abandon, talked about the miracle that had occurred. The miracle that meant the Dark Lord, Voldemort, was finally dead.

Harry hadn't noticed when a gust of wind blew the cloak off of him and settled at his feet a few feet away, nor that this was the same tree he had seen the Marauders lazing about underneath, and many generations before that. Harry had barely noticed when the Giant Squid rose out of the Lake and seemed to bow toward him before retreating back into the icy water.

"Where's Harry?" Up on the entry steps to the school, Ginny Weasley skidded to a halt in front of her brother and Hermione. She was breathing heavily, having been searching everywhere from the Gryffindor common room to the dungeons, and though she was positive he would be in neither place, she had to be sure. Both jumped slightly when she spoke, as if they had been in a waking dream rather than reality. She was getting a lot of that this morning.

"Dunno." Ron struggled to his feet, knees stiff but he took his wand out warily. "Why? He pulled a runner?"

Hermione rolled his eyes, pulling him back to steps and pointed down toward an old tree overhanging the Lake. She was worried, to say the least. Harry hadn't spoken much since dawn when he had spent hours saying a few short words to everyone who needed it, and disappeared soon after. Not that she wouldn't want some downtime, had it been her congratulated every other heartbeat for killing Voldemort. Harry was always so strong, so committed to whatever he was doing (not involving schoolwork) but she could see through the façade sometimes, see that it pained him to keep going when it would have been so much easier to lie down and sleep.

"Ginny?" She asked as the redhead spun to race down the slope. She turned her head, met Hermione's eyes for a second and managed a tight grin. It didn't take words for her to get the message, and without hesitation, she began to walk down the slope.

Right next to bitter thoughts of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Harry had been occupying her mind all morning. Ever since that glorious moment when the first light of dawn had peeked through the window, and with a great flash of light… Voldemort was gone. She would have thought the moment would be etched in her mind forever… but it seemed a blur.

If she was honest with herself, she sort of wanted to pound Harry's head into a rock while kissing him fiercely and making him promise he would never leave again. However, having just saved the world and all, she wasn't sure how outsiders would take the first option, and she wasn't sure if Harry could ever promise something like _that. _He was the Chosen One, savior of wizards and muggles alike, and she was… Well… Ginny Weasley. She was just another redhead who had fallen prey to Tom Riddle in her Second Year and couldn't afford new schoolbooks. Not to mention the fact that just the thought of talking to Harry right now made her blush furiously.

But she was also Ginny Weasley, the only one whom Harry Potter had kissed after they won the Cup just last year, she was an amazing flyer (Fred had said so, and when Fred had said something seriously… well, it was something to be taken seriously.) She was the one invited to Slughorn's bizarre Slug Club meetings because of her hexing ability; the one whom Tonks had said 'would get somewhere.'

This managed to boost her confidence to at least having any as she hesitated at the edge of the dangling willow tree branches, slightly shielded from view. However, she could still see a faint outline of tousled black hair, dirty sneakers, a pair of ripped jeans only partially covered by some filthy black robes. For a moment, she wondered how McGonagall had even talked to him before he freshened up. Then, any train of thought with humor or poise left her as suddenly as Voldemort as a pair of green eyes turned to look at her through the willow branches.

Okay, so maybe willow trees didn't make the best hiding places.

"Ginny?"

Carefully, she pulled the dreary boughs out of her face so she could meet Harry's eyes. Ginevra Weasley held them careful, gulping in anticipation as the boy's emerald eyes lit up like the only two stars in a dark night sky.

"Uh, yeah." She began, blushing as she stumbled over the only two words that were probably not in any dictionary that even Hermione had ever read. "I've been looking for you…"

Harry winced. "You're not going to believe me," his voice was hoarse, and it was only then that Ginny noticed, underneath those distracting green eyes, deep circles shadowed his eyes. He could've passed for a vampire, and the pale skin (though slightly tanned with dirt) only helped. She felt a flash of anger that he had obviously been through hell and back, and yet, was forced to carry on.

He either didn't notice her anger or chose not to acknowledge it. She was sure it was the first. "Er, but I've been meaning to look for you, too." He shifted uncomfortably, and his eyes flicked to look at his feet. Ginny felt the absence of their striking gaze like a knife in her side. "It's just… I sorta thought you might be with your family, and, well, I'm sounding very articulate aren't I?"  
Ginny blinked again, speechless, and then, as if she had completely lost the use of her mind, she flung herself at the boy in front of her and held him tightly with both arms, and yet using her fists to half-heartedly pound his back a few times before giving up completely.

"You idiot!" She tried to yell, but her voice only came out as a muffled squeak. "You're supposed to be smarter now that you went on the Godforsaken journey! You're not supposed to stumble over words!" Dry laughter, half-sobs, half-giggles, racked her body, and it took her a moment to realize that there were two reasons that she couldn't speak properly. The only important one was that Harry Potter was holding onto her tightly, as if his very life depended on it.

Perhaps it was because what she had just said had been so stupid, but Harry was shaking as well.

"I'm sorry." He whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm so-"

"I understand." She sniffed, then cracked a smile. Harry's arms tightened around her. They hadn't moved. "Well, not completely, but I knew you were just being your usual moronic, self sacrificing self and there was nothing I could do about it and you needed time. And," she caught the stiffening of his back. "The only death you caused was Voldemort's, and I thank you for that."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Mr. Moral Fiber."

"Really?" Ginny felt a pang deep in her gut as Harry leaned away, but he was still close, and he held her arms in his hands as if he was afraid she would disappear. His face, pale and thin as it was, radiated hope. Ginny bit down a grin and nodded, leaning into Harry and placing her head to his chest.

"Just…" She coughed, clearing dust from her lungs. "Please never do that again." There was a pause in which Harry seemed at a loss for words and Ginny frowned. "Or I might just have to take out my anger and frustration on you."

"No need for threats." Harry actually managed a laugh, though it was hollow and forced-sounding. "I'm here for good, as long as I'm welcome, that is."

Awkward, as usual. He was her hero, and he still wasn't sure what to say. Just another trait that proved he was human and not just a topic of discussion like the majority of the population seemed to believe.

"If I've said it once, Harry James Potter," Ginny snorted, leaning away from Harry and flopping down in the grass. He looked down at her, smiled, and at once his legs seem to give way with popping joints as he fell down beside her. "You're an idiot. You're always welcome." He didn't reply, but instead grinned at her as he pulled her over to sit next to him, backs leaning against the bent trunk. His eyelids fluttered wearily, but Ginny leaned into his embrace and placed her head against his neck.

As his breathing slowed into sleep, she could still see traces of the boy who had come up to her mother in his first year, asking shyly on how to board the train. The one forced into glory who would much rather hang back and watch from the sidelines, the boy who would give anything to save the people he loved. Granted, with Harry, he would save everyone he could. Silently, she leaned in and placed a small kiss on his lips, which parted slightly with her touch. Aside from that, the only other movement from Harry Potter was a small twitch in his left hand. Without thinking, Ginny placed her own hand in his, and with her fingertips, traced his jaw line and chapped lips, then the half-moons under his bespectacled eyes, the fresh cut on his chin, the lightning shape on his forehead…

Because he was a self sacrificing, moronic fool with an out of control temper, and a strange habit of attracting trouble, but he was _her _self sacrificing, moronic fool with an out of control temper and a strange habit of attracting trouble, and she had missed him.

Hermione watched with a smile as she saw the barest outline of two of her best friends hug each other as if their very lives depended on it. Next to her, with one arm around her shoulders, Ron frowned slightly.

"What?" Hermione narrowed her eyes in warning as she took her eyes away from the willow tree.

Ron didn't answer immediately, but the girl got the feeling it wasn't because he was incredibly happy.

"They better not be…" He decided on gruffly.

"They missed each other!" Hermione snapped at him. "Is that so hard to understand? They're allowed feelings, and if you noticed anything about what Harry's been through recently, you'd be perfectly fine with allowing him a hug from his girlfriend!"

Ron looked appropriately abashed, his ears turning red and muttered something incomprehensible.

"Yes, you'd ruddy well be sorry!" Hermione didn't slow down, even if she did nestle a little closer to Ron as a cool wind blew up from the grounds to where they sat on the old stone steps. "You know they're happy together! Please, for Harry's sake, let them be."

Ron raised an eyebrow, confused. Hermione sighed exasperatedly at her boyfriend's inability to be… well, more his ability to take things like a man and have them fly completely by him.

"Ron," she tried to reason. "Harry's exhausted, emotionally tried, and being the stubborn pig that he is, he won't accept it. Please get that through your thick skull. If you absorbed that, absorb this: Harry missed her, a lot, and I could see it tearing him apart that he had to leave her behind for her own safety. For me?"

It was a while before Ron responded again, and then it was only a short sigh.

"If it was anyone else…"

"Well it's not." Hermione couldn't help the girlish laugh that bubbled to her lips, despite the disastrous consequences, and she flung her arms around Ron. "Thank you."


End file.
